


enmeshed

by athletiger



Series: the ironclad winter soldier [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Electrocution, Hurt, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 04:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17317733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger/pseuds/athletiger
Summary: They shove him unceremoniously against the chair, and his breath leaves him in a rush as he hits the back of the seat painfully. They strap him, and the leather is tight around his head, his chest, his wrists, his legs, the cold metal biting into his bare skin. He doesn’t know where they have taken his suit, whoever they are.





	enmeshed

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, going back in time to the torture scenes. For h/c fill prompt electrocution.
> 
> Beta'ed by [demigodscum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demigodscum), cheered by DeadlyFang and Cady. Thank you so much!

They shove him unceremoniously against the chair, and his breath leaves him in a rush as he hits the back of the seat painfully. They strap him, and the leather is tight around his head, his chest, his wrists, his legs, the cold metal biting into his bare skin. He doesn’t know where they have taken his suit, whoever they are.

However, even immobile, his run minds a thousand miles per hour, already planning an escape plan. He can’t see far from the circle of white light above him illuminating a small area below, but by the breeze of the room, he’s sure that there are at least three people with him.

“Really?” Tony asks flatly, looking off to the side where the dark silhouette of a figure is standing right at the edge of the light. “Could you be any more cliché?”

“ _Au contraire_ ,” the figure says, coming forward into the light, and Tony stops breathing for a moment when he sees the man in front of him. “I believe HYDRA invented the cliché.”

He still looks the same as the old mission reports that Howard had stored, with the large spectacles, the stocky and rotund figure. It’s like he hasn’t aged an ugly day since the 1940s. He’s sure that Steve’s killed him, _all of him_. But – “Arnim Zola,” Tony says, completely straight-faced. “You look good for a centenarian.”

Zola gives him a greasy smile and bends forward so that his face is merely an inch away from Tony’s. Tony presses his head back against the chair in disgust at the proximity. “I don’t believe we’ve met, Anthony Stark,” he says through his heavy Germanic accent. “Although you clearly know my name. How is Howard Stark?”

Tony’s lip curls. “I’m sure you already know that the Winter Soldier murdered Howard. Tell me, was it you who ordered the hit?”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” Zola replies smoothly, standing straight again. “This is news to me, although I would love to pass on my condolences.”

“Bullshit,” Tony snarks back. When he looks at Zola, his eyes are much too-knowing too pass off as innocent or ignorant. His fist curls. “But you can keep telling yourself that you don’t know. Tell me, why am I here?”

“Weapons,” the man replies placidly, smoothly. “I remember Howard was an arms dealer. I presume that you are too.”

“I’ve been out of the weapons business, I’m sure you know that too. And I’ll never make weapons for HYDRA.”

Zola’s face falls. “Pity. I was hoping that you’d be more amenable to our cause because of the fight between you and Captain Rogers.”

“I’m still an Avenger,” Tony spits out, jerking in the seat. “We still fight for the good of the people.”

“And so do we.”

“You strive for world domination in the perfect world that you have imagined, one with complete control. There’s no way that I would support that.”

“If you don’t help us willingly, we’ll just make you help us unwillingly.”

“ _Bring in the unit_ ,” Zola orders in Russian. He switches back to English and address Tony, “Do you recall what we did to Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes?”

Tony’s eyes widen as hands place electrodes over his temples. A third electrode is placed at the base of his skull. Tony jerks frantically even though he knows that he has no supersoldier serum to escape from these bonds, and Zola smiles. “The beauty of living today is that technology has advanced much further than I would have ever thought back then. Perhaps once you’re more willing, we’ll make you design technology which would completely erase memories permanently. Sergeant Barnes was a failure; you’ll be a success. Our new Asset.”

The machine behind turns on with a tinny whine, electricity crawling over the wires, heading relentlessly towards the pads.

Tony screams.


End file.
